This is the 72nd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father ran a store and that is where I spent all my time till Grade 6. Doing my homework. Serving customers. I then moved to my maternal grandparents’ house because I used to get along with my cousin who was a year older than me. We did everything together, and were best friends. We took turns studying: I was a night owl, and he was an early riser. Before I went to bed after studying all night, I woke him up. My mother was 44 when I was born, the same year my eldest brother got married. My sister-in-law becoming a part of our family was how my mother referenced my age. I liked making money, and was always a hustler. In Grade 7, I learnt to handle a tractor and helped my brother-in-law to plough, earning Rs10 a day. As I got better, he paid me more. By Grade 9, I was already making Rs500 per day, but had to slow down to prepare for my exams. From an early age I knew I did not want a 9-5 job. There just wasn’t enough money in it. I wanted to get into business, and compared my brother who worked in the post office and what businessmen made. It did not help that my brother was honest, and never took bribes. A friend and I made money selling cheap Chinese phones at a premium to our friends. We blasted music on the phones and pretended that we were giving them a discount. After SLC, I started teaching math and other subjects. I was soon a shareholder in the same school and in the evening I was involved in our family’s floriculture business, growing amaranth and marigold for garlands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="955" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  It was then that a friend suggested we learn the Korean language. We could be earning significantly higher in Korea for similar efforts. I had no plans to go abroad but he convinced me. I did not know anything about Korea, and was scolded at the language institute when I asked someone to point Korea on the map.&nbsp; It was only there that I learnt you had to pass an exam for the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS), and pay for language classes. After a week, I decided it was not for me and dropped out. But my friend convinced me to give it one more try. I did not prepare much for the exam, and it was no surprise that I failed. But it was just by one mark, and people would pity me for failing “just by one mark”. It was a brand of failure. It hurt my ego. I had to turn things around by taking the exams seriously, and locked myself up to study hard.&nbsp; Even when we had visitors, my wife told them I was not home. If I was not in my room learning Korean, I would be with a group of ten of us test-takers comparing notes and practicing late into the night. The exam was difficult, but this time I passed, the only one in my group who did.&nbsp; As someone who never liked the idea of doing a job, I still had my doubts about going to Korea. It did not help that one of my acquaintances had returned a month after he had left, and he discouraged me from migrating given that I was already making good money in Nepal.&nbsp; But my wife suggested that I give it a shot since I had worked so hard for it. And if it really turned out not to be my cup of tea, I could always return. What did I have to lose, I thought, at least I would get to visit Korea. My job there was in an electrical company that made circuit boards. I worked all day, earned good money. In the evenings, I kept myself busy with my real estate business back in Nepal. I had learnt the tricks of the trade from fellow real estate agents back home, but at the time did not have the capital to invest.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  In Korea, it helped that I had salary records that allowed me to get loans from financial institutions both in Korea and in Nepal. Ultimately, I started earning more from my real estate deals in Nepal than from my job in Korea. This was all thanks to my ability to take loans because of the EPS scheme. My wife has been managing the flower business while I was away. My finances grew stronger over the eight years I was in Korea. I paid off the loans that I had borrowed to buy land. But real estate did not satisfy me entirely. I wondered: what is my brand? What will I be known for? What is my contribution to society? Real estate is for wealth, but that is about it. I needed to sell one piece of land and use the revenue to start a venture. I took classes in business, and returned to Nepal six months ago and got back to my family’s ancestral roots in floriculture. In Nepal too, I am continuing the entrepreneurship training I had started in Korea with the Bridge International. Such exposure helps us reflect on our business such as our branding, vision, and proactive aspects like the importance of strong recordkeeping.&nbsp; I am now working to upgrade and expand my floriculture business. With a friend who is still in Korea I am building a cooling room to increase the shelf-life of flowers and other produce and set up a market in my village where others can sell their produce. Floriculture is our primary business, but it is seasonal and earns good money only during festivals like Tihar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  So, I grow tomatoes to ensure year-round earnings. I also am engaged in other businesses like real estate and online shopping. I work round the clock in Nepal — a strong work ethic is something I picked up in Korea.&nbsp; My Korean bosses would work alongside us, that motivated us. I work just as hard in Nepal as I did in Korea. People here often ask me why I am pushing myself so hard. But making garlands comes easy to me, it is work my forebears were involved in. My childhood memories are about plucking flowers with my sister. I have a comparative advantage in this work. It comes naturally to me, it is easy and I enjoy it. And sometimes, if there are too many garlands to make, I can multitask while holding meetings. My fingers just fly. I am good at this job, but my wife is even better and faster.&nbsp; When there is too much load, we can also outsource the work. To be known as the flower guy would be great personal branding. The मखमली guy. Or the सयपत्री guy. I decided to come home for just this with a one-way ticket. “अब पासा: जाँदैन ल्हासा!” &nbsp;

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The flower guy

The brouhaha between the tech bros led by Elon Musk and Donald Trump’s nativist supporters over whether to restrict skilled immigrants reflects a deep underlying tension between the politics and economics of migration.&nbsp;
Today’s rich economies owe much of their success to migrants who, by choice or through coercion, laboured on their plantations, factories, mines, and homes. Even now, these countries continue to rely on low- and high-skilled migrant workers to fuel economic growth and dynamism by taking on jobs that native-born workers are unwilling or unable to fill.
Far from displacing local workers, migration tends to boost employment among native-born citizens. Studies have consistently shown that countries with significant foreign-born populations experience faster and more sustained GDP growth. In the US, migrants paid an estimated <a href="https://map.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/locations/national/" target="_blank">$579 billion</a> in federal, state, and local taxes in 2022.
Research also shows that migration does not negatively affect local workers’ wages. Since lower-skilled migrants often take undesirable jobs, such as those involving long night shifts, zero-hours contract work, and heavy labour, their main competitors are usually other migrants.
None of this seems to matter to Trump, whose <a href="https://www.bloomberg.com/features/2024-trump-interview/" target="_blank">unsubstantiated claims</a> include the charge that immigrants are taking “Black jobs.” Rather than competing with native-born Americans, migrants have contributed significantly to US job creation.&nbsp;
Many countries depend so heavily on migrants that their economies would collapse without them. This is especially true in some Gulf countries. Migrants make up roughly <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-024-00390-3" target="_blank">90%</a> of the labor force in the UAE and Qatar.&nbsp;
Elsewhere, foreign workers often fill critical labour gaps, doing jobs that require specialised skills, such as programming, plumbing, or surgery, while lower-skilled migrants handle vital tasks that locals are unwilling to perform like fruit picking and elder care.
Thriving economies naturally attract more migrants, who, in turn, boost productivity and fuel economic growth. This virtuous cycle explains why cities with the highest migrant concentrations are among the world’s most vibrant and prosperous.
Anti-immigration politicians often portray migrants as a burden on public budgets. In fact, foreign workers tend to contribute more in taxes than they receive in benefits. Even undocumented migrant workers make significant contributions to government finances.
Refugees, unlike economic migrants, can sometimes become a burden on social systems. But this is largely due to restrictive immigration policies in countries like the UK, where asylum seekers are prohibited from working and forced to rely on public services.
Increased migration also offers clear demographic advantages. Most advanced economies, as well as many developing countries, including China, now have birth rates below replacement levels, which, combined with rising life expectancy, have led to rapid population aging.&nbsp;
By 2050, the number of people aged 60 and older worldwide is <a href="https://www.oxfordmartin.ox.ac.uk/publications/migration-and-the-economy-economic-realities-social-impacts-and-political-choices" target="_blank">expected to double</a> to more than two billion. Workers will be required to pay the taxes that sustain social systems and perform the growing range of jobs that cannot be automated or done remotely, like elder care, personal services, and hospitality.
But there appears to be little correlation between demographic realities and public attitudes. Countries with the world’s lowest fertility rates – such as Poland, Hungary, Japan, and South Korea – are among those most opposed to migration.&nbsp;
Nevertheless, public attitudes toward migration can and do change as people grow more accustomed to foreigners in their midst and begin to recognize the necessity of migrant labour.
Migration provides two key ingredients of a dynamic economy: a growing pool of highly educated workers and a diverse workforce that fosters innovation and entrepreneurship.&nbsp;
To be sure, not all migrants are exceptional or even law-abiding. Even so, criminality rates among migrants are typically lower than those of native-born citizens.
But if migration offers such clear benefits, why do so many people and politicians oppose it? The disconnect between economic reality and political discourse is reflected in surveys showing that people <a href="https://ourworldindata.org/data-insights/many-people-overestimate-the-percentage-of-immigrants-in-their-country" target="_blank">tend to overestimate</a> the size of their countries’ <a href="https://www.citigroup.com/global/insights/migration-and-the-economy" target="_blank">migrant populations</a> and in the anti-immigrant rhetoric of parties across the political spectrum.&nbsp;
Politicians, often assisted by audience-hungry media, have learned that sensationalised images of foreigners ‘flooding’ or ‘swamping’ their countries attract those who confront job insecurity, limited access to public services, or unaffordable housing. Even immigrants and their descendants are not immune to the influence of such messaging.
Walls and fences have long been a favored tool of anti-immigration politicians. But while they serve as powerful symbols of sovereignty, physical barriers are often counterproductive. Instead of deterring migration, they tend to trap as many people within a country’s borders as they keep out.
There are currently more than <a href="https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/research/mass-deportation" target="_blank">13 million undocumented workers</a> in the US, many of whom have been in the country for decades. Deporting them en masse would undermine the economy, harming US-born workers in the process.&nbsp;
Industries like construction, <a href="https://cmsny.org/agricultural-workers-rosenbloom-083022/" target="_blank">agriculture</a>, and <a href="https://www.latimes.com/food/story/2020-05-26/meatpacking-industry-immigrant-undocumented-workers" target="_blank">meat processing</a>, where undocumented workers account for a significant share of the labour force, would be hit particularly hard. The result would be sharp increases in housing and food prices, as well as the costs of elder and infant care, hospitality, and other services.
Implementing a mass deportation program would face <a href="https://ohss.dhs.gov/sites/default/files/2024-06/2024_0418_ohss_estimates-of-the-unauthorized-immigrant-population-residing-in-the-united-states-january-2018%25E2%2580%2593january-2022.pdf" target="_blank">enormous</a> legal, logistical, and economic obstacles that would likely take years to overcome.
Much of the migration debate is focused on the impact of migrants on the countries that receive them, but, as the example of remittances suggests, the effects on the countries they leave are equally important – and not necessarily positive.&nbsp;
While India, China, and the Philippines <a href="https://www.statista.com/chart/4015/the-top-countries-for-highly-educated-migrants/" target="_blank">produce</a> the largest number of educated migrants, regions like Sub-Saharan Africa, the Caribbean, and Central America lose a far higher proportion of their university graduates.&nbsp;
As migrants gain skills and income, they often channel these resources back to their home countries, bringing both expertise and investments that foster economic development.&nbsp;
In many developing economies, remittances sent by migrants abroad exceed aid and investment combined. In <a href="https://www.investmentmonitor.ai/features/lebanon-remittance-dependent-country-world/" target="_blank">Lebanon</a>, they account for 28% of GDP, and between 32% and 48% of GDP in <a href="https://knomad-ois.assyst.in/publication/migration-and-development-brief-39" target="_blank">Tajikistan, Tonga, and Samoa</a>. (In Nepal it is 24% of the GDP.)&nbsp;
These funds have a transformative impact, supporting investments in education, health, housing, and productive assets such as seeds, tractors, and sewing machines. Consequently, communities with high migration rates are often better off economically than they would be otherwise.
While studies show that migrants tend to achieve at least some of their aspirations, many face abuse and danger even after they reach their destinations, enduring social and economic exclusion, xenophobia, loneliness, and violence.
Moreover, migrants often take on dangerous jobs that local workers avoid. Migrant women, in particular, are frequently employed as cleaners, cooks, and caregivers – isolated and insecure jobs often lacking basic protections.
The idea of open borders may seem politically suicidal nowadays, but they were largely the norm until the twentieth century. The EU’s Schengen area, which allows free movement across member states, demonstrates how such systems can work effectively.
The anti-immigration sentiment sweeping the US and many other countries contrasts with the growing recognition among economists that cross-border migration, when managed properly, can benefit host and source countries alike.&nbsp;
So far, the economists have been ignored. Increasingly restrictive policies targeting migrants from developing economies have jeopardised an essential lifeline for those seeking to escape poverty, conflict, and destitution while damaging the economies that shut the door on them.
Crafting a more humane and open immigration system, one that maximises opportunities while mitigating costs, &nbsp;remains one of the biggest challenges facing policymakers.
First, voters and political leaders must acknowledge that migration is, and always has been, a fact of life. Its history is one of profound loss and sorrow, but also of new opportunities and extraordinary progress. © Project Syndicate
<a href="https://iangoldin.org/" target="_blank">Ian Goldin</a> is Professor of Globalization and Development at the University of Oxford and the author of The Shortest History of Migration (<a href="http://oldstreetpublishing.co.uk/100/the-shortest-history-of-migration" target="_blank">Old Street Publishing</a>, 2024, <a href="https://theexperimentpublishing.com/catalogs/winter-2025/the-shortest-history-of-migration/" target="_blank">The Experiment</a>, 2025).

The truth about migration

Nepal is set to lift its ban on domestic workers migrating to West Asia, starting with a pilot agreement with <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/money/2023/06/14/uae-requests-nepal-to-resume-sending-domestic-helpers" target="_blank">the United Arab Emirates (UAE)</a>. This decision marks a major victory for <a href="https://apwld.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/AMKAS-NEPAL-final.pdf" target="_blank">advocacy groups</a>, <a href="https://www.fairrecruitmenthub.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/wcms_451050.pdf" target="_blank">human rights organisations</a>, <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/no-easy-exit-%E2%80%93-migration-bans-affecting-women-nepal" target="_blank">the ILO</a>, <a href="https://www.worecnepal.org/content/340/2022-05-18" target="_blank">activists</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/safer-migration-for-women" target="_blank">media</a>, and <a href="https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/til-2022-0017/html?lang=en&amp;srsltid=AfmBOoowfsJ6whGxR5B4vGFYhAbIaJgRdqoSFsvgciRPPrmNHncBAzFx" target="_blank">scholars</a> who have campaigned against the restriction, saying <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/about/brunel-public-policy/news-and-events/news/Policy-briefs/Societal-challenges/Policy-Brief-Reducing-Vulnerability-to-Exploitation-of-Nepali-Migrant-Domestic-Workers-%E2%80%93-Dr-Ayushman-Bhagat" target="_blank">it increases the vulnerability of workers to exploitation</a>.
This legally binding agreement with a country that employs hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers should be a cause for celebration, but lifting the migration ban on a pilot basis raises pressing questions.&nbsp;
How will the government select the 5,000 domestic workers? How will it reach prospective workers? And what provisions will be made for those migrating to the UAE without permits?
We also need to look at how the government plans to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-plans-to-reintegrate-returning-workers">reintegrate returnee workers</a>, and engage rights organisations, activists, and scholars in the consultation and negotiation process, and recognise unrecognised Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the UAE.
The lack of information on Nepali domestic workers abroad stems from long-standing migration bans imposed by the government as a protectionist policy. For years, <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-021-00250-4" target="_blank">Nepal has imposed various degrees and forms of bans on domestic workers' mobility</a>, mainly affecting women, culminating in <a href="https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4175277" target="_blank">a blanket ban since 2017</a>. This was eased in 2020 with the <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/comprehensive-analysis-policies-and-frameworks-governing-foreign-employment" target="_blank">introduction of seven preconditions</a>, but it only reinforced barriers instead of offering a solution.
Despite the restrictions, <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0962629822000129" target="_blank">Nepalis continued migrating for domestic work</a>, both through formal and informal channels. Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/women-on-the-move-89kx6lii">resort to illicit routes</a>, making it nearly impossible to count their numbers. Some reports estimate between <a href="https://ekantipur.com/en/news/2024/09/20/amid-the-ban-at-least-60000-women-are-domestic-workers-in-the-gulf-32-59.html" target="_blank">60,000</a>-<a href="https://brunel.figshare.com/articles/online_resource/Reducing_Vulnerability_to_Exploitation_of_Nepali_Migrant_Domestic_Workers/26892934/1?file=48931666" target="_blank">100,000</a>, but anecdotal evidence suggests that the figure could be as high as 500,000. This scale reflects the immense vulnerability of Nepali domestic workers abroad.
<a href="https://kathmandupost.com/columns/2024/08/10/who-benefits-from-migration-bans" target="_blank">Many feel abandoned by those meant to protect and fight for them</a>. Nepal embassies in destination countries fail to support them after they flee abuse and exploitation, especially as they are undocumented.
In many cases, employers confisticate passports or documents of the workers. Stripped of their identity, they rely on the Nepali diaspora or agents to navigate the host country as ‘illegal immigrants’ facing risks of raids, criminalisation, and further exploitation. Many returnee Nepali women have spent months in jail in Gulf countries before being deported back to Nepal.
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration">vulnerabilities and exploitation of migrant domestic workers</a> are discussed in the media, policy, and academic circles, but their deaths are consistently overlooked. Migrant worker fatalities have become synonymous with just male workers, and there is a troubling silence surrounding the deaths of systematically disadvantaged women who are domestic workers.
They often die by suicide, due to exploitation, or from work-related illnesses. Yet, migration bans and the lack of political will to acknowledge the lives, labour, health, and deaths of these women prevent justice for them and their families in the face of tragedy.
Many who die never have their bodies returned to Nepal. For those who are repatriated, it is often due to the intervention of domestic worker organisations in Nepal or the diaspora.&nbsp;
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-town-to-ban-mothers-migrating">Migration bans</a> worsen this tragedy, making it nearly impossible for families to report missing or deceased loved ones for<a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/anti.12882" target="_blank"> fear of being criminalised as "traffickers"</a>.
The exploitation and deaths of migrant <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-im-mobility-in-nepal">female domestic workers</a> are ignored due to the grip of patriarchy, class, and caste on Nepal's labour and migration policies. These policies control their mobility, devalue their labour, and fail to provide dignified, sustainable jobs, making their bodies disposable.&nbsp;
As a result, <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/research/Centres/Global-Lives/Forced-Migrant-Labourers/Migrant-Domestic-Workers-of-Nepal" target="_blank">many Nepali women feel abandoned</a> by their state, society, and families. Yet, despite this, they never abandon Nepal or their loved ones.
Many Nepali women migrate to break the cycle of <a href="https://ekantipur.com/opinion/2024/08/06/emergence-of-caste-slavery-among-nepalese-women-27-27.html" target="_blank">caste-based discrimination and gender violence by sending remittances for their children's education</a>. Hence, when a female domestic worker dies, it’s not just their family that suffers, the impact extends to their children and the nation’s future.&nbsp;
These sacrifices of these women, crucial to Nepal’s socio-economic progress, must be acknowledged, valued, and protected. The government must prioritise unconditional recognition of all domestic workers abroad to address the impact of exploitation and deaths of Nepali female migrant domestic workers.
It must inform the Nepali diaspora that it will unconditionally recognise all migrant domestic workers, regardless of documentation status: perhaps the only way to count them abroad.
As Nepal prepares to lift the migration ban on domestic workers, it must not abandon its most vulnerable citizens. This neglect heightens their vulnerability to exploitation and death, and threatens their families in times of tragedy.
&nbsp;We urge the government to raise this issue during the negotiations with the UAE, request immunity for these workers, and take the crucial step of counting domestic workers through Nepali embassies and consulates.
Once this step is taken, the government must expand its welfare net, such as providing insurance coverage, to safeguard workers and their families in worst-case scenarios. Insuring hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers is not just protection, it is an investment in the well-being and future of Nepal.
We hope the pilot program leads to the full lifting of migration bans. But before we celebrate, we must not forget the hundreds of thousands of undocumented Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the Gulf. They are citizens too, and it is the duty of the state not to abandon them.
Ayushman Bhagat, PhD, is a lecturer in Political Geography at Brunel University of London, and Sunita Mainali is the Executive Director of WOREC, Nepal.

Ban on female migrant workers to be lifted

This is the 54th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. <h2>Kumar BK</h2> I have enjoyed playing the flute since I was a young boy. I used to play it in the forest while tending to my cattle or collecting firewood near my village in Khotang. But I am a self-taught musician, I have never played professionally. I know I am not as good as other professional flute players like those I often watch on YouTube. Reaching that skill level requires professional training. It took me a lot of practice to reach my present level. My learning was interrupted because of going overseas. Growing up, my father was always abroad: first in Malaysia and then Qatar. I stayed with my maternal uncle, and childhood was a constant struggle. I had to help my grandparents with the family business, so I only got to attend school thrice a week. Even then, I somehow passed Grade 12. My father returned for good, and in 2014 it was my turn to go and work in Malaysia. I did not manage to save much because of household expenses. My brother has health problems, and a lot of my savings went for his treatment. After three years in Malaysia, I went to Dubai in 2020. Because of a bad contract and Covid-19, things did not work out as I anticipated. During the lockdown I spent a few months in my room without work or pay. Eventually I did get a good job, but after two years my contract was not renewed because of slow business. I came home last year and am now headed to Qatar. Let’s see how things go this time. When my father was away, he used to write home once every few months. We received news of his well-being with much relief. Times have changed now.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="963" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kumar BK DD 54"></figure>  With my father sending money, we were able to afford household expenses. Before my father left, we lived in a bamboo shed with a small room, but now we have a house and land. He lifted us to a state where we no longer have to worry about affording food or a roof on our heads. Other hardships remain. As a son of a migrant, there was always the expectation that he would bring us a mobile phone. It is only later after working overseas that I realised it is not so easy. My overseas experience did not lead to much progress. We had many unanticipated expenses that took precedence: someone falling ill, someone falling down and needing hospital care. Random expenses left few savings. I have now realised that it is difficult to make progress from migration alone if we do not have other ways to supplement our overseas earnings. If households back home can cover basic expenses like food, overseas earnings can be channeled to more productive investment to uplift the family. If remittance from one family member is the sole income source, then we migrate just to survive. Migrant workers like me have just one goal: to earn as much as possible in a limited timeframe. I am headed overseas again with the same thought. Back in my village, I look for a quiet, shaded spot in a nearby forest to play my flute by myself while tending to livestock. I am often away now, but my neighbours in the village say that when they hear the sound of a flute from the forest, they know I am home. I am taking my flute with me to Qatar. I will practice in my room in my free time. Playing it in my room will give me comfort. <h2>Deepak Darji</h2> I was very young when I lost my father. After that my mother also started falling ill. Before that, our family was doing just fine financially. My childhood was not easy because of her poor health and my father’s absence. School was not really a priority. I had to make sure my mother had the medicines keeping her alive. I had household chores like cooking. My mother often reminded me to go to school, but how could I? The responsibilities were on my shoulders from a young age. At least now, she is getting a cash grant from the government that has eased things a bit. Over the years, I have been doing odd jobs. Things are not easy and finding regular work is difficult in the village. As a musician, I am part of a पञ्चे बाजा troupe that plays at weddings and other rituals. If the event is far from where we live, we make about Rs4,000 and if close by, it can be up to Rs3,000. The frequency of events varies. Some months we have four or five, while at other times it is less. Over a decade ago, I went to Dubai but did not get to work or earn as planned despite spending almost Rs200,000 in fees. I had to rely on fellow villagers in Dubai for help, but they told me this was not a sustainable way to live overseas. They were right. I came home before the end of my contract, and was heavily in debt because I could not save enough to pay my recruitment loans. In fact, I had to borrow additional money to sustain myself while in Dubai.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Deepak Darji"></figure>  After returning, I have migrated to various places in India including Shillong, Lucknow, Delhi and Mumbai to work in construction or hotels. I also did short term police duties during the election in Nepal, and the earnings helped while getting to serve the country. I have tried to go overseas again but the first failed experience left a deep scar in my psyche. It was difficult to trust people who said they would find me jobs. I also did not have the Rs300,000 fee they demanded for a job in the Gulf. For Malta they wanted up to Rs800,000. I could not afford such high costs. Now, I have six children to take care of along with my wife and mother. I was finally able to go overseas because the job did not require any recruitment fees. After all, we migrate in the hope that something will work out. Just about everyone is leaving from my village. The well-to-do ones go to Japan and Australia, and people like us to the Gulf. I am taking my shehnai oboe to Qatar to practice during breaks, or when I am bored. Eventually, I will have to come home and resume performing at events, so I cannot afford to get rusty. I had previously taken it to India as well and fellow Nepalis would sometimes ask me to play after a hard day’s work. Our house in the village is known as the ‘radio house’ because the radio is always on. When my grandfather was alive, people would come over to listen to farming programs and radio dramas. He used to encourage fellow villagers to adopt the farming practices that the radio programs talked about. Even today, the radio plays throughout the day, and if it ever stops, people are startled by the silence and say: “कस्तो सुनसान भयो”. Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Migrating with the music of Nepal

“I am headed to Atlantis the Royal to advance my career … it is my dream to work there,” said Kanchan Rai. She passed her apprenticeship interview at one of the most luxurious properties in the UAE, and credits it to her late mother.&nbsp; She says, “I can feel my mother watching over me. After returning to Nepal, I want to start a restaurant in her name.” Other young Nepalis recruited recently by the company Vision and Value shared similar excitement about star chefs at Atlantis they would work with, the multinational colleagues, and opportunities to learn new skills.&nbsp; “Atlantis the Royal in my CV will set me up for life,” beamed another candidate.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015110_9280b5bd5b524b83d114714e2f58d9dd0faeea35de3f8e1c761f579372d5819a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024113015110_9280b5bd5b524b83d114714e2f58d9dd0faeea35de3f8e1c761f579372d5819a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Kanchan Rai with her colleagues.</figcaption> </figure>  Migrating out of ‘compulsion’ is a common theme in Nepal’s public discourse. But here, बाध्यता as a driver for migration was not a prominent feature, in fact it barely came up.&nbsp; Upward mobility during migration merits more attention. Reputable employers offer opportunities for cross-training and career advancement.&nbsp; Seven years ago, Bikash Tripathi went to the UAE to work as a packing staff. A year into his contract, he used his month-long break to cross-train and five promotions later now works as a pastry chef managing a multinational team of eight.&nbsp; “I was always preparing for the next job when I was working, even if it meant using my holidays or covering for colleagues when they were absent. My supervisors took notice,” says Tripathi, who wants to open a restaurant on return to Nepal. “In addition to saving money, I am glad my parents now have financial freedom and don’t have to worry about making ends meet like they did,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_739c801ebf914dd055335c39a5c9adcf974de2cc31a45f4c43a50c5dc9d904a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024113015114_739c801ebf914dd055335c39a5c9adcf974de2cc31a45f4c43a50c5dc9d904a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Pastry chef Bikash Tripathi manages a multinational team of eight in the UAE.</figcaption> </figure>  Some motivated workers invest in their own upskilling. Dharmendra Sah went as a labourer to Qatar at a salary of 700 Riyal. When he left seven years later he was working as a lifting supervisor and earning 6000 Riyals because he followed his colleague’s advice to take a training course.&nbsp; “I did not know what work I would be doing overseas or what my future had in store for me,” he recalls. “I paid 1000 riyals from my own pocket for the training, but it was worth it because it opened up better opportunities.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_46e72c40ad7707a0abb31a3da82ca2171e5f52c885c1ac2ba8b6753577453380.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024113015114_46e72c40ad7707a0abb31a3da82ca2171e5f52c885c1ac2ba8b6753577453380" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Lifting supervisor Dharmenda Sah who tained and upskilled there abroad.</figcaption> </figure>  The hard-earned perception that Nepalis are loyal and hard-working works to their advantage. But also important is the role of a trusted labour mobility industry to attract the best employers.&nbsp; Ultimately it is the recruiters who matchmake workers and employers. While the internet and more awareness among workers may gradually decrease reliance on them, for now recruitment is heavily intermediated. Factors like under-the-table commissions play a role in helping recruiters bag job demands from overseas employers. These costs are eventually borne by workers as recruitment fees. The competition can be unhealthy with thousands of recruiters from other countries competing against each other.&nbsp; In this race-to-the-bottom, standing out as good actors and responsible businesses can be difficult. Strong credentials are needed, including international licenses and accreditations, marketing and research skills, thorough audits, references from previous clients, capacity to screen and mobilise the right candidates, among others.&nbsp; These aspects of building a strong labour mobility industry have not received adequate policy attention in Nepal. The government also needs to engage more proactively with host country industry associations, employers, and government counterparts.&nbsp; Recruiters often struggle to have a direct approach with employers and instead themselves rely on intermediaries. Interviews with workers in senior positions in the hospitality sector overseas show that Nepal’s recruitment process is rife with bureaucratic hurdles that dissuade employers looking to hire in small numbers.&nbsp; For example, a hotel looking to hire a chef or operation manager would rather not hire from Nepal as it is significantly easier and quicker to do so from the Philippines or India. While these delays are less problematic for bulk hiring, they become a major obstacle for smaller recruitment efforts, or vacancies that need to be filled quickly even when employers are willing to cover all costs and offer competitive salary packages. Attracting good employers to Nepal is not only helpful for migrants’ financial and career growth, but is a way to prevent abuses in the first place. The risk of wage theft or contract infringement is reduced when reputable companies hire directly, and in the event of such incidents, the likelihood of corrective action is higher. Attracting quality employers should be central to Nepal’s foreign employment policy. Setting up migrants for success overseas also means preparing them for success upon return. After working abroad as a rope access cleaner, Rudra Bahadur Gurung established the Asset Integrity Group in Kathmandu, providing internationally accredited training and licensing to both Nepali and non-Nepali migrants seeking to upskill during their vacations.&nbsp; Shiva Sharan Khatri returned to Nepal after working in hotels in Qatar, the UAE, and Seychelles to set up Sankalpa Management Facilities Service, a cleaning company that now employs over 80 workers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_91f493ca4928b2a10de1dbfb0e4bdf6b178a416ca27b437a6d49ad12694cca03.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024113015114_91f493ca4928b2a10de1dbfb0e4bdf6b178a416ca27b437a6d49ad12694cca03" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Rudra Sharan Khatri returned to set up a cleaning company which employs over 80 people. </figcaption> </figure>  Both Rudra and Shiva began their migration journeys in low-paying positions and leveraged their overseas experiences to create successful enterprises at home. Not only did they earn more, but also applied their experience in their business enterprises back home. A World Bank study in Bangladesh has shown how temporary migration can help migrant workers overcome credit constraints so they can invest in business creation. Unfortunately, this ‘continuum’ is lacking in many migrant workers. Take Gyanendra’s story. His father was the first to migrate to Qatar and villagers called him ‘Arabe Kafle’ because he has moved across Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and is now headed to Dubai.&nbsp; Gyanendra had to start from scratch each time, and as a cleaner in his new job in the UAE will work for the same basic salary as younger peers migrating for the first time. Remigration is common from Nepal, but many workers like Gyanendra struggle to build on previous experiences. While they can still use earnings to meet household expenses back home, professional growth takes a backseat with each migration episode. In some case, they are compelled to even accept lower wages and benefits.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_e28445dccaa225fd6699053d8e99b0374b7287af5f20c0d584ed3bb6d652e20d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024113015114_e28445dccaa225fd6699053d8e99b0374b7287af5f20c0d584ed3bb6d652e20d" data-rendition-name="original" width="236" height="326" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Gyanendra's father ‘Arabe Kafle’.</figcaption> </figure>  The bar is currently set very low, and many workers worry if they will get the promised job, or be able to pay off recruitment loans. Nepalis need reliable employers and recruiters so ‘good migration outcome’ is not just simply about workers getting the promised job or wages, but about attaining their full potential.&nbsp; Outgoing workers need better guidance to make the most of their overseas opportunity. They currently are required to take pre-departure orientation training courses that cover basic do’s and don'ts.&nbsp; But also needed is practical career guidance to improve job readiness with advice on cross-training, building soft skills, networking, promotions so they can make the most of their migration with long-term growth.&nbsp; Successful returnees like Rudra and Shiva would be stellar mentors for younger workers. Exposure, work ethic, learning, skills, technology transfer, and networks are ‘social remittances’ and can be positive gains for Nepal besides financial remittances. &nbsp;

Upasana Khadka

Not just financial, but social remittances

&nbsp;This is the 53rdedition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. I was the first migrant to the Gulf from my village of Chagariya of Dhanusha district. We had heard of people who had gone to Saudi Arabia from neighbouring villages and done well for themselves.&nbsp; There were five children to feed and raise, and we did not have much land. Foreign employment seemed like a good choice. After I left in 1992, many others from my village also became migrant workers, including relatives. I have vivid memories of the day I left home. The whole village showed up to drop me off at the bus station. It was like a wedding. My family members wept, they did not know if I would come back alive. There was so much uncertainty. Nowadays migrating has become so common that people come and go without anyone knowing.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Ram Dhani Yadav with his family.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1768" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  Getting on the plane was scary. I had a window seat and the flight attendant helped us with our seat belts and offered us food. I chose the vegetarian meal, and even though they offered beer, I stuck to Dew. Someone from the company was waiting for us at Dammam airport. And the heat! It burnt all the hair on my head. It was impossible without AC. But even in Nepal the heat is suffocating now, and it is hard working on the farm. Seems like we imported not just money, but also the heat from Saudi Arabia. After a couple of months as a labourer, I lost interest in the work. Luckily, I got a job as a company barber since I had experience. I cut the hair of fellow workers from Nepal, India, Pakistan, Korea and the Philippines.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Barbers' tools that Yadav used after he got a job as a company barber in Saudi Arabia.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav with the mirrior he used for his side-job as a barber.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;The workers did not have to pay, but if they liked it they gave me handsome tips, fruit juice or even a crate of canned Pepsi. I chatted in Hindi with the Indians and Pakistanis. Those working in scaffolding, welding or drivers earned more and tipped better. Low paid workers left less tips, but I did not mind. I worked in the company’s hair salon which had a fancy revolving chair and big mirror. For off hours and holidays, I had my own makeshift barber corner in camp as my side hustle. I bought my own mirror, hung it on a rod and my clients sat on a stool. I would also drop by one of the salons in the market to earn some extra cash on our days off. Times were different back then. There were no mobiles and my wife had to travel a long way to receive calls on a CDMA phone from Ram Dayal’s shop at a pre-arranged date and time. The calls were brief because they were expensive.&nbsp; We had more detailed communications through cassette tapes that we sent each other. Whenever I felt homesick, I listened to the voices of my wife and children over and over again – especially the girls who were always loud and chirpy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="2056" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>This is the cassette tape case Yadav had sent home from Saudi Arabia over three decades ago. His handwriting reads: Sender: Ram Dhani Yadav, Saudi Arab (Dammam) Receiver: Sita Devi Yadav, Ward No 3, Chagariya, Nepal </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1791" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  When I missed my family, I would play the tapes on a Sony that I bought for 60 riyal. When I was alone in my camp dorm, I would record whatever I wanted to tell my family, replay the recording and if it was good enough, I sent it to Nepal with some cash, wrapping it all in layers of cellotape. Every night before going to sleep, I would re-listen to the voices of my family. I kept the player close to my ears at a very low volume as I shared the room with four or five others. Even hearing about mundane everyday things from the village over and over again in the voices of my wife and daughters filled me with joy after work. One day, someone from management said I had a call from Nepal. It was news of my youngest son’s death, and that was a painful moment. He was just 18 months old. In a tape that followed, my family filled in the details: he had died of measles. I responded by recording my own feelings on tape and consoled them.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav now talks to his son, who is also overseas for work, through video calls on his mobile phone.</figcaption> </figure>  My company offered to send me home on mourning break for a month. What was the point? My son was already gone, so I could not bring him back. Instead, I grieved on my own in Saudi Arabia before I resumed work. The company was kind enough to pay me my basic wages. During my time overseas, I came home thrice. When I left for Saudi Arabia after my third vacation home, I wept as my mother was in poor health and paralysed. I just could not stay away, so three weeks later I returned to Nepal on a one-way ticket. I brought back my barbershop mirror, and it still hangs on my wall. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FDXX3kPW42oc%3Fsi%3DolveYQBO4UYjBKl&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

"The first migrant worker from my village"

Quake survivors migrate for work

I was born in Mumbai where my father worked as a watchman. When I was just four years old, my parents decided that it would be best if my mother went back to our home district of Achham in Nepal to take care of our house and farm. And off she went with my one-year-old brother. In her absence, we lived close to his workplace. He worked shifts, and was not always home when I returned from school. I learnt to cook for both of us at a young age, even though I do not consider myself a good cook.&nbsp; From childhood, I had this innate sense of responsibility and completed my homework or rote-learned for exams even when I was not under parental watch.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> <figcaption>Bishwokarma was married at 15 to a 13-year-old girl also from Achham who, like him, was also born and raised in Mumbai.</figcaption> </figure>  Growing up around Nepali families in the neighbourhood, I picked up Nepali. Not having a mother figure around, I did not really know what I missed as it had always been that way. My mother and I communicated in letters that were about a paragraph-long without much substance other than basic pleasantries and updates from school. I was more accustomed to my father, with whom I shared a special bond. I married young at 15 to a 13-year old girl who was also born in Mumbai to migrants from Achham. My mother came to my wedding and it was the first time we met after she had left over a decade ago. My mother returned with my wife to Achham where my city grown wife learnt how to do village household chores. Unsurprisingly, she did not like it, but she stayed on for two years. While she was trained by my mother in Achham, I was continuing my school in Mumbai.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  After my wedding, I went to Achham for the first time ever. With no mental image of what it would look like, I did not know what to expect. Life in Nepal took some getting used to but with the visits I grew attached to Nepal and I got familiar with Nepali songs and movies via YouTube. My father eventually moved back to Nepal. My mother needed more help around the house to tend the fields. By then, I had settled down in Mumbai with my wife and four children and worked as a watchman, just like my father. My now-jobless father now depended on me. This put more financial pressure on me. I used to enjoy playing cricket growing up. But when household responsibilities start weighing on you from a young age, there is no space in life for hobbies and passions. By the time I was of age to discover and nurture my interests, I was already worrying about raising my children well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  Life in Mumbai is fast-paced. Everyone is running around. My company closed down, and I lost my job. I then bought an autorickshaw, and my daily income varies between INR 700-1,500. I prefer this more than being a watchman, as there is more freedom. It is self-paced, and there is time to rest. There is no boss to order me around. My three sons work as a vegetable vendor, a real estate agent and a cinematographer, and my daughter is a nurse. They also take care of some of the household expenses. What I earn is just for my pocket money and to keep myself occupied. What would I do sitting around idly? If I had a traditional job, I would be retiring in three years after turning 60. But as an autorickshaw driver, there is no end at sight. I will retire when my body demands it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  I don’t interact much with my customers as I have to keep my eye on the road at all times. Mumbai traffic is bad. Sometimes, customers hail three-wheelers like mine when the cars they have booked online do not arrive on time because of traffic. They have meetings to attend or flights to catch, and they are thankful when I stop to pick them up.&nbsp; Other than that, the interactions are quite limited. Most customers are glued to their phones. Some even bring out their laptops. My job is to ensure they reach their destinations. Three years ago, I received a call from Achham about my father’s heart attack. I was arranging my travel to Nepal, but he passed away that night. I still went to Achham for his last rites, and I cannot describe how difficult it was to make that long journey alone while grieving my father’s loss. As I changed buses and trains across India, all I could think about was my father.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51"> </figure>  We moved my mother to Gujarat where my brother works as a watchman as we did not want to leave her alone in Achham. Our house there is now empty.&nbsp; Just like I was close to my father who raised me, my brother is close to our mother. My brother and I have never spent more than a few days together because we were separated as children. I visit them in Gujarat once in a while. I have lived a simple and perhaps even a boring life. There have been enough hardships, but nothing that I have not been able to sort out on my own. I have not had to depend on others. God has been restrained in the way he sends me problems. We are all entangled in our own झमेला troubles. Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. The previous 50 columns can be accessed in this <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uR6pzwfR91KAezRODgDIz2FWI6m2xjPL/view">ebook</a>. Watch video of Harka Lal Bishwokarma <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rusYgB9B3rs">here</a>. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rusYgB9B3rs?si=-E3SnyAv00I3ZUm1" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

“I have lived a simple, boring life”

Just before Dasain this time last year, two young Nepali women were about to leave for Dubai. They were offered jobs to perform at cultural programs, but did not have proper travel documents.
One of them was a friend of Archana Darji, a journalist with our sister publication <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/">himalkhabar.com</a>. As <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/142859">she writes in her blog</a>, it was clear they were being trafficked by a gang of recruiters who had paid off Kathmandu airport immigration.&nbsp;
The girls had to support their families, and were determined to go despite knowing the risks. One of them soon returned because she fell sick, and could not bring herself to tell Darji what the work was in Dubai.&nbsp;
One year later, she has once more paid a recruiter for a job in Dubai, and is about to fly off again.
Most of the focus on overseas remittances gives credit to male migrant workers sending money home. The question around migrant women is often why they go despite knowing about exploitation and abuse.&nbsp;
That is the wrong question. We know why. Instead, we should be asking what can be done immediately to ensure safe migration for Nepali women — both in Nepal and in destination countries.
In 2017, following high profile cases of abuse of women domestic migrant workers in West Asia, the government imposed a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration">blanket ban on female migration</a>. This misguided decision drove recruitment underground, forcing women to take unauthorised channels, increasing the risk of trafficking en route.
Many were stranded in Mumbai or Delhi, and being outside the safety net of Nepali embassies and consulates made their rescue and repatriation difficult.
<a href="https://figshare.com/articles/online_resource/Reducing_Vulnerability_to_Exploitation_of_Nepali_Migrant_Domestic_Workers/26892934?file=48931666">A new study by Brunel University London</a> calls for Nepali women migrants to be given skills-training and language orientation so they can migrate without being trafficked, exploited or abused.&nbsp;
‘The ban overlooks evidence of positive outcomes for Nepali domestic workers and leads to several unintended and damaging consequences,’ the study says, adding there should be ‘concrete reintegration plans for returnee domestic workers at the local level of governance to assure their social, political and economic empowerment’.
The report's author Ayushman Bhagat, lecturer of Political Geography at Brunel, interviewed women including recent returnees in Jhapa. He found them distrustful and angry with the government for making it more difficult for them to migrate.&nbsp;
“Instead of solving structural issues of class, caste, education, these women are having to bear the burden of historical marginalisation,” Bhagat told Nepali Times. “All they want is for their children to not have to lead the same life they did, and migration is the quickest way to their empowerment.”
Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/homes-away-from-home">women migrating for domestic work</a> are at greater risk of being cheated by recruiters in Nepal, trafficked en route, and abused in destination countries. Even when they do return bearing the scars of abuse, they leave again out of sheer desperation.
Officially, one in every ten Nepali migrant workers is a woman but many more who are undocumented or migrate to India are not counted. Their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/female-migrant-workers-hold-up-half-the-sky">contribution to the economy and family income</a> is rarely acknowledged.&nbsp;
This is hardly surprising, given the marginalisation Nepali women face at home, and the double discrimination women of excluded caste and ethnicities experience in society.
Over the years, the government has flip flopped on women migration, introducing shamefully restrictive and ad hoc gender-insensitive rules. One such regulation (<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepali-women-protest-proposed-travel-restrictions">later revoked after outrage</a>, pictured) even required <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-im-mobility-in-nepal">women under 40 to obtain permission letters</a> from male family members and the local government for travel.
Part of the problem is the media’s doom and gloom portrayal of migration that magnifies the negative.&nbsp;
True, there are harrowing cases of abuse and exploitation, and workers are cheated every step of the way, often by their own relatives and recruiters. But Bhagat says there are many other positive outcomes for women workers.
“We must highlight how the women are contributing to society, not everyone is being exploited and frankly to think otherwise is a very privileged mindset,” adds Bhagat.
Nepal’s graduation to middle income country is almost entirely supported by remittances reducing the poverty rate. Many returnees have improved family living standards, and created jobs for other Nepalis.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/migrating-for-domestic-work">Restrictions and bans never work</a>. Bhagat has some common sense steps to making migration safer for women: &nbsp;
- Invite all women workers to register with Nepali missions regardless of their status with no repercussion.
- Strengthen the capacity of Nepali missions abroad to help workers in need at dedicated service centres.
- Form government-to-government legally binding arrangements for safe migration.
- Thoroughly vet <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-long-way-to-europe">new labour markets</a> and regulate recruitment at the local levels.
Sonia Awale

Safer migration for women

Sujan Rawat had come to Kathmandu from Karnali in the hope of somehow <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dead-end-of-the-korean-dream">making it to Korea</a> to pay off family debt. His dreams and that of his family back home was dashed on Friday on the Ring Road in Kathmandu. He was one of the two aspirants hoping to go to Korea who were killed in a police charge at Balkumari in Lalitpur. Applicants for <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korea-treating-Nepali-migrant-workers-right,2813">Korea jobs</a> had gathered at the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS) office in Balkumari to protest a recent decision that disallowed them from applying for a mandatory Korean language test.&nbsp; The angry protesters set fire to the car of Physical Infrastructure and Transport Minister Prakash Jwala. As the violence intensified, riot police was deployed to control the situation. They charged the agitators with batons as well as firing tear gas and rubber bullets.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231230121220_c84479e7c80b289e0f55ad48a39f66a1ee042738c90bb63d5465dba6336a8b10.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20231230121220_c84479e7c80b289e0f55ad48a39f66a1ee042738c90bb63d5465dba6336a8b10" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1306" loading="lazy" alt="Balkumari EPS protest"> <figcaption>Protesters set fire to the car of Physical Infrastructure and Transport Minister Prakash Jwala.</figcaption> </figure>  Rawal had left his room earlier in the morning looking for his older brother who had also joined the protest. Having arrived in Kathmandu just a week before, Rawat did not know his way around but managed to reach Balkumari. Rawat was just walking on his side of the road when the police suddenly charged at him, said Roshan Katuwal, a relative. “He wasn’t there to protest, he was minding his own business when the police took him for one of the demonstrators,” he told Nepali Times. “A heavy blow to his chest is what killed him.” Rawat was taken to the nearby KIST Hospital but there wasn't much doctors could do to save his life. “He was brought in unconscious at 12:40PM, he succumbed to his injuries at 1:17PM while undergoing treatment,” Amish Pathak, executive officer of KIST Hospital told us. “He had a blue bruise on his chest.” Rawat had followed his older brother to Kathmandu from Dailekh Bazar where his family ran a small shop. But when his father was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the family could not afford treatment. They incurred debts, the responsibility of which had fallen on Rawat to clear. “His father passed away less than a year ago and now this has befallen the family,” added Katuwal. Rawat has a mother and a younger sister and a brother back home who had all their hopes pinned on Rawat. Rawat himself wanted to continue his studies after completing high school. But his family situation meant he didn't see any other option but to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/delayed-dreams-for-korea-bound-nepalis">migrate overseas</a> to pay off the loans.&nbsp; As soon as he reached Kathmandu, Rawat enrolled himself in a Korean language class and was preparing for the EPS exam. Birendra Shah of Achham was seriously injured in the police charge on Friday, and taken to Patan Hospital but he died during the treatment. The government has announced Rs1 million in compensation for the families of Rawat and Shah, as well as suspension of the key security officials involved until further investigations. The protest was triggered by a notice published by the EPS office which stated that for the applicants to be eligible to apply for the test, they should not have done so in 2023. In many ways, the protest is a representation of the frustration and desperation of the youths against the political system that does not even ensure basic rights and jobs to the people. Oftentimes, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">labour migration is their only hope</a>. Following the notice, 12 individuals including Tarka Bahadur Paul filed a writ in the Patan High Court on 28 December. The single bench of Judge Chandramani Gyawali gave an interim order not to stop anyone from filling out the application form for the Korean language test, stating that it was a violation of their rights. The court's order states, '...as the petition presented by these petitioners will be addressed during the final hearing, from the point of view of the irreparable damage to the petitioners and inconvenience, it is not reasonable to deprive the petitioners of filling the application form, and interested persons of the same nature as the petitioners...' As per the order, all the agitating youths will now be able to apply for the EPS exam. But Rawat and Shah will have lost their lives in vain. There are about 80,000 <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korean-kafala-migrants-in-Korea,4025">Nepali migrant workers in Korea’s farms and factories</a> and their situation is better than other countries in the Gulf. Salaries are higher and labour rights are guaranteed. Which is why there is such high demand from Nepali migrants for jobs in Korea. The EPS exam system is supposed to streamline the selection process, but it ended up costing the lives of two promising young lads.

Karnali to Korea dream dashed in Kathmandu

After a week of violent and destructive protests, Nepal’s President Ram Chandra Poudel on Friday appointed <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/justice-in-chief,804">former Chief Justice Sushila Karki</a> as a caretaker Prime Minister to lead an interim citizens' government.&nbsp; Poudel had been in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-next-nepal">closed-door discussions since Thursday</a> with youth members who spearheaded the protests, constitutional experts, the House Speaker, and the Army Chief. There was a consensus on the choice of Karki as candidate for interim prime minister, but her swearing-in was stalled due to a disagreement about Constitutional processes for her appointment.&nbsp; Youth delegates and Karki demanded that Parliament be dissolved before the appointment of the caretaker prime minister, while President Poudel had been arguing that Parliament would be automatically dissolved once the new council of ministers announced elections. Representing the GenZ movement, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-or-what-is-hami-nepal">Sudan Gurung</a> (pictured, below) is said to have insisted that dissolution of Parliament first was non-negotiable because he did not trust the political parties. He is said to have added that he would call his supporters out into the streets, and the President relented. The military’s warning earlier that an emergency would be declared if there was no agreement tonight clinched it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025091216098_cdd409c5824b578a04f05a43280e3f475d92bf7123d3a4565b4d720768fcc1b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025091216098_cdd409c5824b578a04f05a43280e3f475d92bf7123d3a4565b4d720768fcc1b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="600" loading="lazy" alt="Sudan Gurung"> <figcaption>Sudan Gurung of Hami Nepali during negotiations.</figcaption> </figure>  With this, Karki becomes Nepal’s first female prime minister, exactly a decade after she became the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/interview/a-woman-is-as-capable-sushila-karki,3375">country’s first female chief justice in 2016</a>.&nbsp; Nepalis, still shocked by the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre">death and destruction of the past week</a>, heaved a sigh of relief at the announcement, which was greeted as a victory of youth power for political reform led by the GenZ movement. Its initial anti-corruption protest on 8-9 September <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-burns-despite-pm-resignation">spiralled out of control into violence and arson</a> nationwide that claimed at least 51 lives. Several other candidates were floated for the caretaker prime minister’s post. Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah and former head of the electricity utility Kulman Ghising were being considered, but both declined possibly because they want to contest the next national elections. Given her experience in the judiciary and zero tolerance for corruption, Karki was the favourite of various groups within the GenZ campaign.&nbsp; The site of the negotiations moved to the official residence of the president in Shital Niwas from the Nepal Army Headquarters on Thursday. The Army had come under criticism on social media and from civil society for detaining the President and not letting him speak or be a part of the negotiation.&nbsp; This fuelled public perception that the military had a soft spot for a return of the monarchy. There were widespread rumours on Thursday that king Gyanendra, who was ousted after the abolition of the monarchy in 2008, was trying to stage a comeback by piggybacking on the agitation. Writing on X, senior journalist Kishore Nepal revealed that the Chief of Army Staff Ashokraj Sigdel had allegedly asked Poudel to step aside and pave the way for the military to negotiate, to which the President is said to have replied: “I will not resign. Kill me instead and blame it on the protesters. Then you can do whatever you like.” Live broadcast of swearing in of Sushila Karki:&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/53go4OxuOa0?si=Zd89QGIAX8-7Bm75" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025091219094_41b0f97a5925ab6969e1413636bf073ae43262893a55d9c177cb1312dea52f0d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025091219094_41b0f97a5925ab6969e1413636bf073ae43262893a55d9c177cb1312dea52f0d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="851" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki swearing in"> <figcaption>President ram Chandra Poudel swearing in Sushila Karki as the 42nd Prime Minister of Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025091303098_8f2b6f98898c4cd73c271caa51b8e29d679a7385c249380aeb96d7cc2c3f6dba.png" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025091303098_8f2b6f98898c4cd73c271caa51b8e29d679a7385c249380aeb96d7cc2c3f6dba" data-rendition-name="original" width="1480" height="924" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki PM"> <figcaption>GenZ representatives with new Prime Minister Sushila Karki after her swearing in.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025091301098_470dbca4f4d34ca4533ce4d160045ffe8e525e98380f6f1e20eb24a6236c6029.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025091301098_470dbca4f4d34ca4533ce4d160045ffe8e525e98380f6f1e20eb24a6236c6029" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki PM"> <figcaption>Sushila Karki with supporters including Genz representative Sudan Gurung of Hami Nepal and Sumana Shrestha of Rastriya Swatantra Party.</figcaption> </figure>  COURAGE AND INTEGRITY Sushila Karki served as the chief justice between 11 July 2016 to 6 June 2017, and has been known for her frugal ways. She was a firebrand judge unafraid to ruffle powerful feathers, and as chief justice was behind ruling to impeach for abuse of office a powerful head of Nepal’s anti-graft body in 2016. She wrote that he had ‘<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/the-end-of-karkistocracy,827">neither the moral character nor qualifications for the post</a>’. Even before she became Chief Justice, Karki was one of the two judges on the bench that convicted the sitting Minister for Information and Communication, Jaya Prakash Gupta, of corruption in 2012. Then in 2016, a bench including Karki ruled against granting amnesty to former Maoist lawmaker and convicted murderer Bal Krishna Dhungel. Karki was born on 7 June 1952 in Biratnagar. She completed her undergraduate studies at Mahendra Morang College in 1972 before obtaining a postgraduate degree in political science from Banaras Hindu University in India three years later. This was followed by a Bachelor's in Law in 1978 from Tribhuvan University, and she started her law career as an advocate a year later. In 1985, Karki worked as a teacher at Mahendra Multiple Campus in Dharan, and was jailed for participating in the 1990 People’s Movement to overthrow the Panchayat absolute monarchy. She became a senior Advocate at the Nepal Bar Association in 2008 and was appointed an Ad-Hoc Justice at the Supreme Court in January 2009.&nbsp; On Thursday, there were supporters for other candidates for the post sloganeering against Karki’s nomination outside the Army Headquarters. Some on social media were also skeptical of her connection to the Nepali Congress (NC) party. Growing up in Biratnagar Karki was close to the family of B P Koirala, Nepal’s first elected prime minister in 1960. Her husband Durga Subedi was part of a group of underground Congress activists who hijacked a Royal Nepal Airlines plane in 1973, flying it to India to snatch cash belonging to Nepal Rastra Bank in the cargo hold.&nbsp; The money was used for the party’s pro-democracy campaign. Karki has no love lost for the political establishment. In April 2017, the governing coalition under Maoist Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/lady-justice-sushila-karki,3693">submitted an impeachment motion against her</a> after the Supreme Court overturned his decision to install a favoured police chief, violating succession based on seniority. It was a political move backed by Dahal’s coalition partner Sher Bahadur Deuba of the NC who was waiting to become prime minister for the 4th time. CHALLENGES AHEAD With Karki now in charge of the interim government, she has the daunting task of forming a council of ministers made up of amorphous and disparate groups from the GenZ, technocrats, and current politicians. Karki has said she will not prevent members of her cabinet from contesting elections, which means those with electoral aspirations like Kulman Ghising, Balen Shah and Sumana Shrestha could be asked to join. Karki has her work cut out as she has to get her team members to pull in the same direction to hold free and fair elections. She also has to make sure she has the support of the military without giving the generals too much say, while also smartly maneuvering Nepal’s precarious geopolitical ties with its giant neighbours, China and India. But most of all, the new prime minister must lay the foundations to not just physically rebuild the judiciary, executive and legislature but also ensure that elections will produce a more accountable and efficient government. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/trial-by-fire">Trial By Fire</a>, Editorial

Madam Prime Minister of Nepal

Many had never heard of <a href="https://www.haminepal.org/">Hami Nepal</a>, the organisation that is part of the GenZ movement that did not just topple the government this week, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-next-nepal">pushed Nepal’s political system into new, uncharted territory</a>. It was part of an organic coming together of various youth groups fed up with Nepal’s corruption, mismanagement and lack of accountability. Hami Nepal and its GenZ comrades are now part of the negotiations with the Army to form an interim government. Hami Nepal is a non-profit dedicated to supporting communities and individuals in need, guided by its motto ‘For the People, By the People’. Its core mission is to assist individuals and communities in need, particularly during emergencies and crises, with a focus on directly connecting donors with recipients, and delivering aid efficiently and transparently. It was set up after the 2015 earthquake, but was formally registered and gained recognition in 2020 during the Covid-19 pandemic. Hami Nepal is led by 36-year-old civic activist Sudan Gurung who started the organisation after he lost his own son in the 2015 earthquake.&nbsp; Leading up to the events this week, it played a central role in guiding the demonstrations, using its Instagram and Discord platforms to circulate protest information and share guidelines. Other GenZ groups used their own WhatsApp groups and other fora.&nbsp; Among the 20 or so volunteers is Ronesh Pradhan, who spoke to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-gen-z-protest-turns-deadly">Nepali Times on 8 September </a>morning during the GenZ rally, before the violence escalated.&nbsp; “The voices of young people matter. We can’t keep being ruled by the same old men,” Pradhan said. “Our generation is the future and if there are older leaders in government, they need to be competent and accountable. We are ready to lead this country forward.” Hami Nepal’s earliest visible campaigns include donating more than 400 blankets to Bir Hospital’s Covid unit in 2022, creating a plasma and oxygen bank during the pandemic, and distributing school jackets to children in rural districts. More recently, it mounted a relief effort in response to the 2023 Jajarkot earthquake, reaching over 13,000 families with shelter, food, and medical support. The organisation was also associated with the two-month ‘Save Ghopa’ campaign, demanding effective and smooth administration of the BPKIHS (B P Koirala Institute of Health Sciences) in Dharan. The organisation was also actively engaged in providing rescue and relief during the Kagbeni and Sindhupalchok floods this year. It even sent aid to Turkey after its 2023 earthquake. After the Kavre floods last year, Hami Nepal donated solar lights. Funding for Hami Nepal comes directly from public donations, with a policy of channeling 100% of received funds for aid distribution. Volunteers self-finance administrative costs, and the group publishes detailed expenditure figures, regularly sharing updates and transparency reports through their social media and website which it launched at its Annual General Meeting in Bhaktapur last year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250911090920_cd40c472bd7e06cc038a2d77a431cba777b6f53e4374a0216c9af2c4feb56c88.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250911090920_cd40c472bd7e06cc038a2d77a431cba777b6f53e4374a0216c9af2c4feb56c88" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="719" loading="lazy" alt="Who, or what, is Hami Nepal?"> </figure>  Following the death of Nepali student Prakriti Lamsal at KIIT University in India earlier this year, Hami Nepal advocated for justice using its Instagram account, raising concern about the safety of Nepali students. Its advocacy platform started with rescue and relief, and Hami Nepal managed to develop a track record for efficient campaigns and transparency in Nepal’s humanitarian landscape. But its work pushed the group to realise that there was a deeper malaise in Nepali society. Its #youthsagainstcorruption campaign on social media platforms gained rapid momentum, and that led to the rally on 8 September. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre">Nepal’s 8 September massacre</a>, Shristi Karki The international #Nepobaby trend on TikTok propelled the rally even more, and young Nepalis used it to expose the scions of powerful politicians and politically-connected influencers who were exhibiting their flashy lifestyles on social media while citizens struggled with joblessness, corruption and poor service delivery. Public anger reached a tipping point when the UML-NC coalition led by Prime Minister K P Oli announced a sweeping ban on major social media platforms citing tax revenue, cyber security, and lack of content moderation. Netizens, civil society and media, however, saw it as the latest authoritarian attempt by the government to clamp down on free speech, increase surveillance of citizens and constrict Nepal’s open society. Susmita Khadka, 22, told us at the rally: “Politics is everywhere. Gen Z has the most platforms, and we want a revolution.” Leading up to 8 September, the GenZ movement disseminated information and reassured participants with volunteers readily available for help, medical support, and assistance. It put up a protest support helpline so that students needing assistance could get help. As the protests intensified, leaving at least 20 dead outside Parliament, and forcing Prime Minister K P Oli to resign, Hami Nepal shifted into a mediator role, engaging in talks with officials and seeking GenZ’s views on future leadership.&nbsp; Influencers like TikToker Nimesh Shrestha publicly backed the group, amplifying their voice in ongoing negotiations with the Nepal Army alongside other GenZ representatives. However, as the protests escalated on 9 September, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-burns-despite-pm-resignation">resulting in massive arson and vandalism of public and private property</a>, many GenZ activists disavowed association with the attackers, saying their movement had been infiltrated. The group backtracked, with Gurung saying he was not the leader of the protests.&nbsp; Meanwhile, others accused Hami Nepal for singlehandedly speaking with the Army chief, and said that they did not represent GenZ’s collective voice. Most GenZ supporters backed <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/justice-in-chief,804">Former Chief Justice Sushila Karki</a> as their candidate for interim prime minister in an online group. Not everyone in the GenZ movement agrees with that choice, with support for Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah, even though he has endorsed Karki’s appointment. Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang rushed to Kathmandu on Wednesday to push his own candidacy. Hami Nepal has supported Balen Shah to lead the country for the next five years, not just during the interim period, and have called on the public to share their posts supporting Shah to amplify the message. With the old guard gone, there is a power vacuum with multiple actors with competing interests to fill it. GenZ’s youth-led activism has brought new energy for political reform, but its real test begins now — whether it can unite Hami Nepal and other sections to negotiate with the Nepal Army.&nbsp;

Who, or what, is Hami Nepal?

As arson and violence swept Nepal’s capital, Prime Minister K P Oli resigned on Tuesday. However, this did not stop angry protesters from setting fire to the Parliament building, homes of ministers, hotels and other property. Singha Darbar is also in flames. Meanwhile, former Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and his wife, Foreign Minister Arzu Rana Deuba were also attacked in their house. As protests spread, Police withdrew from guarding official buildings, and thousands of protesters entered the federal government secretariat at Singha Darbar, ransacking and setting fire to buildings.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250909120916_a86227e5556356134565053699ed9599f8b268d0c22815fa94410ffac52a49fa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250909120916_a86227e5556356134565053699ed9599f8b268d0c22815fa94410ffac52a49fa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1042" loading="lazy" alt="de-escalation"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250909120916_995f368b8c372bf2f99b6a9c25c2816e941413b3c19d0f94458c07604391b039.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250909120916_995f368b8c372bf2f99b6a9c25c2816e941413b3c19d0f94458c07604391b039" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1042" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu protests"> </figure>  Kathmandu Valley was shrouded in smoke under heavy monsoon clouds on Tuesday afternoon with an acrid smell covering the capital. The minister’s quarters in Bhaisepati were set on fire, the convention centre in Godavari, the Hilton Hotel and Chhaya Centre in Thamel, and the headquarters of all three main parties were also burning.&nbsp; The widespread arson was sparked by the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre">killing of at least 19 young protesters</a> as they tried to storm Parliament on Monday. A peaceful rally by youth against corruption and nepotism by Nepal’s GenZ movement in Kathmandu escalated after the killings. With the prime minister out of the picture, the government not visible and the security forces in retreat, protesters have had the run of the three cities of Kathmandu Valley.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250909120916_207c3c25f8aa9bd0934b8c98ccee1221e3a062815cfcb1e211deddb4dccd6511.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250909120916_207c3c25f8aa9bd0934b8c98ccee1221e3a062815cfcb1e211deddb4dccd6511" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1042" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu protests"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250909120920_bb2c0f273dc95ef62c58b5f55045c58cbddc4b3b8f619e938be76ef2cda69468.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250909120920_bb2c0f273dc95ef62c58b5f55045c58cbddc4b3b8f619e938be76ef2cda69468" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1042" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu protests"> </figure>  Nepal’s celebrity cricket captain Paras Khadka has appealed to to call off the agitation, saying: “The prime minister you wanted to kneel has already knelt.” Former prime minister and Maoist ideologue Baburam Bhattarai called for the formation of an interim government that included some young student leaders. He called for the agitating groups to find a solution from within the Constitution and a directly elected presidential system. All members of the opposition RPP and the RSP have resigned from Parliament, while party supporters entered the Nakkhu Jail and freed the RSP leader Rabi Lamichhane who had been detained for the past 8 months by the Oli government on charges of embezzlement. Some of the protesters also want an end to federalism, which was also the demand of opposition parties like the RSP and the pro-monarchist RPP. Chief Minister Satish Kumar Singh has stepped down. Many of the protesters have voiced support for Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah, who &nbsp;posted on Facebook calling on the GenZ protesters to “be ready to talk to the Army … but only after Parliament has been dissolved”. Army Chief Ashok Raj Sigdel and the heads of security agencies have called on the protesting groups to excercise restraint and to find a solution through talks.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250909120912_cd93a827631d987ee52723aa270faf45aa42e4322eb8f06304b28215e3cea28a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250909120912_cd93a827631d987ee52723aa270faf45aa42e4322eb8f06304b28215e3cea28a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1042" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu protests"> </figure>  Although the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-gen-z-protest-turns-deadly">protests were sparked by the GenZ campaigners</a>, disparate groups, including monarchists, anti-federalists, disgruntled Maoists, dissidents from the mainstream parties, and others have joined the protests. But one thing that united them is extreme frustration with the mainstream parties and their leaders past and present who have taken turns running and ruining the country.

Kathmandu burns despite PM resignation

As this story is being uploaded on Wednesday evening, sloganeering is going on outside the gates of the Nepal Army headquarters in Kathmandu between various GenZ groups about who should be the caretaker prime minister.&nbsp; The GenZ campaign includes Hami Nepal and several other groups that spearheaded the anti-government rally this week against corruption and neoptism. Thirty people died as the protests in Kathmandu turned violent on Monday and Tuesday. After Prime Minister K P Oli stepped down on Tuesday, Nepal has existed in a power vacuum, with no one really in charge. The Nepal Army took over security management from Monday night, and President Ram Chandra Poudel appealed to Nepali youth to come to the negotiating table.&nbsp; Thousands of GenZ youth held hours long discussions on Discord and other online fora on Wednesday, and voted to endorse former Chief Justice Sushila Karki to lead the transitional government. The group informed Chief of Army Staff Ashokraj Sigdel about their choice, but he has also been meeting leaders of at least 12 other groups claiming to be the genuine GenZs. Among them are royalist and other groups that many saw as having infiltrated the GenZ rally on Monday in which 20 people were killed while trying to storm Parliament.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250910170936_4efefa67f54228154d316ca692838c3d0c078f5f9ec96ea68cfc4ca740f4df4d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250910170936_4efefa67f54228154d316ca692838c3d0c078f5f9ec96ea68cfc4ca740f4df4d" data-rendition-name="original" width="640" height="387" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki"> <figcaption>Photo: SHAHIDUL ALAM</figcaption> </figure>  On Tuesday, disparate groups joined the arson and looting that ended up gutting Singha Darbar, the Parliament and Supreme Court buildings and attacks on party offices, media, schools and private residences across the country. The original GenZ disavowed involvement.&nbsp; 'Nepal's 2015 Constitution does not envision any transitional or emergency provisions to address a state of political and constitutional vacuum. For now, the President, per Article 273 of the Constitution, can exercise emergency powers in light of the current situation,’ wrote former National Human Rights Commissioner Mohna Ansari on social media on Wednesday evening. The President can declare a state of emergency per Article 273 of the Constitution, but that must be endorsed by a two-third majority of Parliament within a month, after which it will be in effect for three months. ‘Former Chief Justice Sushila Karki is the best option to address the adverse circumstances prevailing in the nation. The President must heed the Constitution and take the next steps in a manner that is transparent, keeps the public informed, and is in the national interest,’ Ansari added.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="8000" height="5760" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal in ashes"> <figcaption>Photos: KAMAL PRASAI</figcaption> </figure>  The Gen Z movement itself appears fragmented and without distinct leadership, both before the anti-corruption protests on 8 September and in the aftermath of the two-day protests.&nbsp; Various groups are said to have met or waited to meet the Gen Sigdel on Wednesday. The Army told others claiming to be GenZ and raising slogans against Karki’s candidacy to appear at the army headquarters on Thursday.&nbsp; Nepalis had floated the names of some of Nepal’s more acceptable public figures to lead a caretaker government, including Kathmandu mayor Balen Shah. But Shah told the Army chief he endorsed Sushila Karki’s nomination. <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/post.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FbalenOfficial%2Fposts%2Fpfbid02M9CBZiWETz4qocKaYUG6ZSZ4ARNcq231V8edJJVGQhPLmpSRMdv1mTWM2q7mJijjl&show_text=true&width=500" width="500" height="256" style="border:none;overflow:hidden" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="true" allow="autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; picture-in-picture; web-share"></iframe></div> The names of former NEA chief Kulman Ghising and ex-education minister Sumana Shrestha of the RSP had also been proposed.&nbsp; Polls conducted on social media to gauge public sentiment show a significant number are open to Sushila Karki taking charge of a transitional government. Both Shah and Shrestha are not so keen, and are probably waiting to contest elections.&nbsp; Meanwhile, Nepal’s young reform campaigners largely seem to reject the idea of handing leadership to RSP chair Rabi Lamichhane who was retrieved by supporters on Tuesday from Nakhhu jail after eight months of incarceration for embezzling depositers of cooperatives. But even as GenZ held discussions with the Army chief to decide on the interim government, other interest groups have continued to engage as well. Erstwhile royalist businessman Durga Prasai, posted a photo of himself with Sigdel on social media and professed that he has 'no interest' in leadership and would accept whomever GenZ youth chose. The job of the caretaker government, whoever leads it, will primarily be to hold free and fair elections for a new leadership which will then face the challenge of reestablishing Nepal’s democratic institutions.&nbsp; “The course of events showed that the movement has gone beyond Constitutional remedy,” political analyst Krishna Khanal told BBC Nepali following erstwhile Prime Minister Oli’s resignation on Tuesday. “There needs to be a middle-ground solution that will be acceptable to the people who took to the streets while upholding the existing constitutional process.” Various GenZ collectives have issued demands that include the dissolution of Parliament and the formation of a new civilian government, which analysts say are antithetical. Constitutional experts have suggested that the youth opt for a solution that allows for new leadership to move forward under the current Constitution.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250910140912_e6bf05bfe95f519e05ab8d9016587211b241340fd23a0f9ae728e74747fc5f29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250910140912_e6bf05bfe95f519e05ab8d9016587211b241340fd23a0f9ae728e74747fc5f29" data-rendition-name="original" width="8064" height="6048" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal in ashes"> </figure>  One option, they say, is for the President to appoint any prime minister from the existing Parliament under Article 76(5) if all other measures fail, who would then have the authority to appoint up to 25 non-elected ministers for six months. This can be a way for that temporary leadership to hold elections within the mandated time frame. The existing Constitution can then be amended to accommodate the aspirations of the Nepali youth after the election.&nbsp; But any conditions put forward by GenZ youth that requires a new Constitution might set Nepal back years, warn some experts. The 2015 Constitution was the result of nearly 10 years of negotiations and strife, and the formation of another charter will mean that Nepal will head into decades more of rotating governments and political instability. For now, Nepali youth need to unite to decide by Thursday who leads the country into the next phase.&nbsp;

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